| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Statesman by Plato: Republic). It has fixed rules which are the props of order, and will not
swerve or bend in extreme cases. It is the beginning of political society,
but there is something higher--an intelligent ruler, whether God or man,
who is able to adapt himself to the endless varieties of circumstances.
Plato is fond of picturing the advantages which would result from the union
of the tyrant who has power with the legislator who has wisdom: he regards
this as the best and speediest way of reforming mankind. But institutions
cannot thus be artificially created, nor can the external authority of a
ruler impose laws for which a nation is unprepared. The greatest power,
the highest wisdom, can only proceed one or two steps in advance of public
opinion. In all stages of civilization human nature, after all our
Statesman |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Brother of Daphne by Dornford Yates: while we cowered in the depths of the brougham, the coachman
mounted heavily upon the box and we rolled slowly out of the
yard.
Round to the left we swung, away from White Ladies, slowly into
the village and to the left again. I kept my companion informed
as to our whereabouts.
"That's right," I said, " there's the butcher's. Splendid meat
he sells- I beg his pardon- purveys. Wears wonderfully well.
Always follows the hounds on one of his own saddles. And there's
the tobacconist. You should see the plugs he keeps. I've got
one I use as a paper-weight. We used to think it was a piece of
The Brother of Daphne |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Helen of Troy And Other Poems by Sara Teasdale: On the Death of Swinburne
He trod the earth but yesterday,
And now he treads the stars.
He left us in the April time
He praised so often in his rhyme,
He left the singing and the lyre and went his way.
He drew new music from our tongue,
A music subtly wrought,
And moulded words to his desire,
As wind doth mould a wave of fire;
From strangely fashioned harps slow golden tones he wrung.
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